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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141133">the calm after the storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperjamBipper/pseuds/paperjamBipper'>paperjamBipper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Forduary, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Pillow &amp; Blanket Forts, Pines Family Feels, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Thunderstorms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:56:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperjamBipper/pseuds/paperjamBipper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ford lost everything to Bill’s betrayal; his sleep, his only friend, his sense of security, his sanity, he thought for sure that at least, <i>at the very least,</i> he could still find comfort in the rumble of thunder and the spark of lightning, the same way he had as a child, because they were the one thing Bill couldn’t bend and twist to his liking.</p><p>What a naïve fool he had been.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ford Pines &amp; Mabel Pines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Forduary</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the calm after the storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here's my entry for Week 1 of Forduary! This year's prompts are based on fanfic and art tropes, which I think is a real cool way to handle a fandom-wide event like this! The prompt was "Hurt/Comfort", so I went with the good ol' American classic of Nightmares. I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ford was a kid, he loved thunderstorms more than anything else.</p><p>Thunder and lightning were his siren songs. When most people would reasonably be tucked away at home with a book or spent the day in bed, Ford would hear thunder and it would be his cue to kick off his bed covers, put his shoes on, and drag Stan out of the house with him to go exploring.</p><p>Thunderstorms were one of the only guarantees that the beach would be abandoned on a summer’s afternoon. If Ford wanted to go exploring for buried treasure in the sand, a dark and stormy afternoon was always going to be his best bet. Best of all, the storm brought things from the ocean onto the shore with its ravenous winds, and lightning strikes brought sea glass, which he and Stan would sneak home in their pockets.</p><p>In his college years, when he was too busy studying for any hands-on exploration outdoors, thunder and lightning no longer excited him as much as it did when he was a child. Rather, it filled him with a sense of comfort and nostalgia. If he were working at his desk in his dorm room when it began to rain, he would gather everything together and continue to work on his bed so he could look out his window at the rain as he worked.</p><p>It would not be until his early years in Gravity Falls that the excitement from his childhood would return to him. Thunder and lightning would bring frightened anomalies to his back porch seeking refuge from the pounding rain, and all he had to do if he wanted to take notes was take a peek out his back window.</p><p>When he lost <em>everything </em>to Bill’s betrayal; his sleep, his only friend, his sense of security, his <em>sanity, </em>he thought for sure that at least, at the <em>very least, </em>he could still find comfort in the rumble of thunder and the spark of lightning, because they were the one thing Bill couldn’t bend and twist to his liking.</p><p>What a naïve fool Ford had been back then.</p><p>He’s hanging in shackles in the Fearamid. The stench of his own smoking skin fills his nose and waters his eyes, and if not for the chain clenched tightly around his neck he’d surely be vomiting at the sensation.</p><p>“<em>You ready to talk now?” </em>Bill’s shrill voice pierces through Ford’s skull.</p><p>“Never!” Ford shouts, his chains jingling as he speaks. “I’ll die before you get a single word out of me!”  He spits at Bill’s feet.</p><p>Bill squints, and for a moment Ford thinks he’s about to start shocking him again. He braces for impact, but the shock never comes.</p><p>Instead, Bill groans like he’s <em>bored.</em></p><p>“You’re no <em>fun </em>anymore, Sixer” Bill crosses his arm. “It’s always <em>no, I won’t reactivate the portal,</em> and <em>no, I won’t join you in the nightmare realm, </em>and <em>no, I won’t hand over the rift. </em>I’m sick of it!”</p><p>Bill raises his hand to snap his fingers, and the color drains from Ford’s face. He does everything he can to avoid the impact of whatever Bill’s about to do to him, attempting to squirm backwards and yank his wrists loose, but he doesn’t budge so much as an inch.</p><p>Bill snaps his fingers, and Ford squeezes his eyes shut, and…</p><p>He’s being lowered to the ground.  Ford pops an eye open, just to make sure Bill’s not playing tricks on him, or that he’s shrinking, but…no, his feet really are being lowered to the ground.</p><p>Ford’s shackles disappear, and he rubs at his tender wrists. “I…” he tries to bite, but he’s too baffled to finish his sentence. “I don’t understand”</p><p>“You want to play games with me so badly, then <em>let’s play a game” </em>Bill’s voice becomes distorted as his feet slam to the ground so hard it cracks. Ford takes a few cautious steps backwards. Bill snaps his fingers again, and the entire interior of the Fearamid transforms into a labyrinth. “If you can find your way out of here before I catch up to you, I let you go.”</p><p>Ford swallows hard.  “What’s the catch?”</p><p>“That’s just it!” Bill responds giddily. “If I catch you before you escape, you have to tell me the equation. <em>I’m not asking anymore.</em>”</p><p><em>“</em>What…What about the kids?”</p><p>“Won’t touch a hair on their puny heads! I promise.”  Bill tips his hat towards him. Ford…seriously doubts that, but if there’s any chance he can get out of here and bring Dipper and Mabel with him to safety, he’s taking it.</p><p>“Fine!”</p><p>Bill clasps his hands together. “<em>Perfect,” </em>he replies, his voice dark and low. A large timer suddenly appears on the ceiling.  “And <em>since </em>I’m such a gracious host, I’m giving you a two minute head start.”</p><p>He snaps his fingers once more, and he sprouts four more limbs and grows about eight feet taller. <em>“You’re gonna need it.</em>”</p><p>Without waiting for another word, Ford blindly sprints off in a random direction. He’s read extensive papers discussing minotaurs and their labyrinths, and the common traps one could find in them, so he should be out of here in no time. Just as he’s about to round a corner, a sudden streak of lightning strikes the wall, and a large pile of debris blocks his path.</p><p>From somewhere behind him Bill lets out a sickeningly shrill laugh as Ford backtracks to go a different route. He tries running back in the direction he came in, but another lightning strike blocks that path, too.</p><p>“<em>Time’s up!” </em>Bill shouts, and Ford stumbles off down a random clear path. It’s not a very <em>long </em>one, because tween one blink and the next he’s smacking head first into Bill’s outstretched hand. The color drains from Ford’s face as he’s lifted from the ground to meet Bill’s….many, <em>many </em>eyes. He doesn’t say anything else, simply morphs his hand into a giant taser.</p><p>“No!” Ford attempts to squirm as Bill brings the taser closer to his neck. “<em>No! </em>You promised!”</p><p>“I promised you I wouldn’t touch the kids! I never said anything about <em>you.”</em></p><p>“<em>No!” </em>Ford shouts, and just as the taser is about to come in contact with his skin, there’s a pressure on his arm, like someone’s gently pushing him.</p><p>Ford’s eyes fly open, and he nearly smashes his forehead against Mabel’s.  His heart feels like it’s pounding hundreds of miles per hour, but it begins to slow when he realizes that he’s in his own room.</p><p>“Mabel?” he grips at his chest as he sits up. “What are you doing up?” He’d hate to have been the reason she woke up in the middle of the night.</p><p>She snorts as she takes a seat beside him on his couch. “It’s nine-thirty in the morning, Grunkle Ford, I’m always up this early!”</p><p>Ford’s about to ask how that could be when it’s still so dark in his room, but a roll of thunder outside his window answers that question for him. He flinches at the sound of it, and beside him Mabel places her tiny hand on top of his.</p><p>When he turns to meet her eyes there’s a deep sadness in them that could tear his heart in two. “Are you okay, Grunkle Ford?”</p><p>There isn’t nearly enough time in the universe to answer that question truthfully. He turns his hand to interlock his fingers with hers, and he squeezes gently. “I’m fine, sweetie, don’t worry about me”</p><p>She pouts, and returns the gesture of squeezing his hand. “I heard you talking in your sleep when I walked by. I wasn’t gonna bother you, but…” she turns her gaze towards the floor. “I…heard you say Bill’s name”</p><p>As if the universe itself were listening to her speak, a streak of lightning flashes across the sky at his name. Ford winces, and his grip on Mabel’s hand briefly tightens. She frowns, and scooches closer to rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, voice muffled by his turtleneck.</p><p>He knows that she still blames herself for Weirdmageddon.  She had come into the lab in the basement not too long ago and told him everything; from the argument she got into with Dipper to handing the rift over to Bill’s awaiting hands. It nearly broke his heart in two to see her so heartbroken and afraid. He’d told her that it wasn’t her fault, and that it was nearly inevitable it was going to happen eventually. She seemed to accept that, and hadn’t said anything about it to him since.</p><p>Still, he knows better than most that the guilt never truly leaves you be, and that it tends to sneak up from behind and eat you alive when you least expect it to.</p><p>“No need to be sorry, my dear” Ford replies, winding an arm around Mabel to hold her closer. “I’ve been having these sorts of nightmares since far before Weirdmageddon ever happened.”</p><p>“Then…why last night?” Mabel looks up at him, her soft brown eyes pooling with worry.</p><p>“Well, if I had to hazard a guess…” Ford taps at his chin. Before he can give it much more thought, another streak of lightning crackles outside, which makes him flinch. Mabel’s gaze switches back and forth between Ford and the window behind them, and she jumps up to her feet.</p><p>“That’s it!” she shouts, spinning towards him with a…very out of place grin plastered to her face. She takes his hands in her own. “Grunkle Ford, are you afraid of thunderstorms?”</p><p>Ford blushes so hard that his ears burn. “It…hasn’t been a fear I’ve had since childhood, but it seems like in turn of recent events…” He tugs awkwardly at the collar of his turtleneck.</p><p>“Aww, you don’t have to be so modest, Grunkle Ford! I’m not gonna judge you.” She offers a hand out to him, smiling sweetly. “As a matter of fact, I know a cure for just the thing, if you’d follow me”</p><p>A soft chuckle escapes Ford as he takes her up on her offer. He places his hand in hers, and she helps tug him to his feet. She guides him by the hand out of his room and towards the living room. Stan must still be asleep, because his recliner is unoccupied.</p><p>“Here we are!” She pats at the armrest with her free hand. “There’s a few things I need to put together, but you can sit right here while I go grab them.” She gently pats at his forearm. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about the rest”</p><p>…Interesting choice of words, but Ford doesn’t question them. He takes a seat in Stan’s recliner, and as soon as he kicks his feet up Mabel beams and skips off in another direction. He doesn’t have long to wonder what she could be planning, because only about a minute or two passes before a giant pile of blankets comes walking back into the room.</p><p>Mabel drops the pile in front of the recliner with a grunt. “There we go!” She grins, clasping her hands together. “This should be plenty enough for our pillow fort”</p><p>“Our…pillow fort?”</p><p>“Yeah!” she beams. “Pillow forts are like, the number one cure for everything, right behind hugs and glitter.”  She nods matter-of-factly. “It’s science! You should know, Grunkle Ford” She says, and heads towards the kitchen to grab a few chairs.</p><p>Ford can’t help but smile warmly as he stands to help her.  They gather all of the chairs from the kitchen and place them in a large circle around the recliner, spaced out just enough that there’s plenty of crawlspace between them and just close enough together to prevent the blankets from falling off. Once Mabel is satisfied with their placement, she begins placing the blankets on top of the chairs, letting the larger blankets come all the way to the floor to act as entrances to the fort. It’s a touchup of the blankets here and a small adjustment of the chair placements here, and Mabel steps back to admire their work.</p><p>“And...That should do it! I’m gonna go grab some more blankets and pillows for the inside, but you can feel free to head in without me” She beams, and she’s already off again before he can respond. Ford rolls his eyes at her fondly, and gets down onto his hands and knees to crawl inside the fort.</p><p>The change of scenery is instantaneous, in every meaning of the word. The inside of the fort is dark, save for the beams of light from the room outside seeping through the gaps of the blankets. It’s warm, from the heat trapped within each of the blankets. It’s quiet, so much so that the pounding of the rain on the windows sounds like nothing more than a muffled drizzle.  It’s comfortable, despite the only available seat being the floor itself.</p><p>It’s a sensory deprivation tank without the claustrophobia; a safe space Ford could see himself losing time to.  </p><p>“Hey!” Mabel’s cheery voice cuts smoothly through the silence.  She crawls through the blanket flap with an armful of blankets and a bowl full of fresh popcorn. “Sorry that took so long, I figured if we were gonna spend the whole afternoon in here that you were gonna want a snack” She places the bowl of popcorn on the ground between them,  and hands Ford a pillow.</p><p>Ford gently squeezes the pillow to his chest. “Mabel?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Ford can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. “How did…how did you know?”</p><p>She cocks her head. “How’d I know what?”</p><p>“How did you know that…all of this would work?”</p><p>“Oh!” Mabel grins. “Pssh, that’s easy. Don’t tell Dipper I told you this, but he was absolutely <em>terrified </em>of rain when we were younger. It didn’t even have to be storming out, just as long there was rain falling from the sky. And all it took for <em>him </em>to calm down was tearing apart our beds and building a fort, so I figured that since you two are like, the same exact person that it would work for you too!” She gently taps at her forehead. “You two aren’t the only smart twins around here”</p><p>Ford laughs, winding an arm around her to bring her close to him. “Thank you, sweetheart. It’s working wonders”</p><p>The grin that spreads across her face could burn out the sun. She reciprocates his gesture, winding a tiny arm around him and resting her head on his chest.</p><p>Growing up, he’d been taught that there was no place for fear. Fear made you weak, and the only way to deal with it was to harshly beat it down until it was no more. You were to show fear that you were strong, and tough, and succumbing to it could only lead to your demise.</p><p>Worst of all, Ford believed it wholeheartedly. Shutting himself out from the world, sacrificing sleep, and comfort, and love, Ford truly believed he was winning his battles. There was nothing to fear if he had nothing at all.</p><p>But now, sitting in this tiny little fort made of love, listening to the rain with his great-niece by his side, he realizes that this is what he’s needed all along. You don’t defeat your fears by beating them into the ground, you defeat them with <em>love, </em>the love of those who care enough about you to fight by your side. And even though thunder is not tangible, something he can reach out and mold to his liking, he knows that in time, he <em>will </em>be back out there, learning to love the rain again with his long-lost childhood wonder.</p><p>And as he finds himself dozing off in the warmth of his niece’s arms, Ford knows that this storm will only be the first of many of its kind.</p><p>He looks forward to each of them.</p>
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